


Office Hours

by niniblack



Category: X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies), X-Men (Movieverse)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Anal Sex, M/M, PWP, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-04
Updated: 2016-12-04
Packaged: 2018-09-02 13:27:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8669482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/niniblack/pseuds/niniblack
Summary: Charles is a professor on a tenure track. He is a responsible adult, entrusted with the education of impressionable young minds. He is also fucking Erik Lehnsherr in a bathroom stall.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [puny_god (verona_glambert)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/verona_glambert/gifts).



> For the prompt: "Charles is a serious academic, he really is; so why is he trying to stifle the sound of his groans in a bathroom cubicle as Erik Lehnsherr, his academic rival, grinds against him?"
> 
> This is shameless pwp.

Charles has always told his students that it isn’t fate that puts them into situations -- situations that include being late on an essay and denied an extension because this is the second time in a row -- but rather their past behavior that has created the unique set of circumstances that lead them to where they are now.

So, he takes a moment to think back and assess how he wound up in his current situation -- with his pants around his ankles, hands clinging to the top of a stall, while Erik Lehnsherr fingers him in the downstairs bathroom of the science hall.

It probably has to do with Erik’s… everything. But specifically his dick, which Charles apparently can’t resist. And which is currently poking into Charles’ left ass cheek.

“Are you actually going to fuck me?” he asks Erik, pushing back against his fingers.

“Why?” Erik asks, tone curious. “Did you want me to do something else?”

“No,” Charles snarls back at him. “I want you to get on with it. I have a class in an hour.”

“What if it takes me longer than an hour?” Erik asks.

Charles twists around to look over his shoulder. “If you can keep it up for over an hour then fuck my class.”

“That’s asking a lot. Isn’t it a lecture hall?”

Charles groans, both at the bad joke and at Erik hooking his fingers and hitting Charles’ prostate. “Come on,” he says. “I’m more than ready.”

Erik pulls his fingers out, and Charles can hear him ripping open a condom. Then Erik’s cock is nudging against Charles’ ass, missing at first and then hitting home, pushing into him.

Charles groans again. The stretch is painful, but in a good way. Erik stops once he’s all the way in, waiting, which is more considerate than Charles thinks a bathroom stall fuck really deserves.

“You can start anytime,” he tells Erik.

Erik answers by tightening his grip on Charles’ hips, pulling nearly all the way out, and slamming back in quickly. Charles can’t help the noise that it draws out of him, halfway between a yelp and a moan.

“Like that?” Erik asks.

“Yes, exactly like that.”

Erik starts fucking him in earnest then. The sound of their flesh slapping together is loud in the empty bathroom, but even that is drowned out by how loud Charles is being. He can’t help himself. He wishes he could appear to be as unaffected by sex as Erik always does -- he wears the same expression during sex that he sometimes does in faculty meetings, like he’s only there because he has to be. But that’s never been Charles’ style, and he can’t make himself be quiet now.

Erik’s cock rubs against Charles’ prostate, drawing a louder groan from him. “Right there, fuck,” Charles gets out.

Instead of keeping the same angle, Erik slows down, using his grip on Charles’ hips to shift their position just enough that his next stroke doesn’t brush against Charles’ prostate at all.

“What the fuck?” Charles demands. “Why did you--”

“I thought we were trying to make this last for an hour,” Erik says.

“Fuck,” Charles says.

There’s a bit of a laugh from Erik.

“You would think is funny, you--”

Erik slaps a hand over Charles’ mouth, muffling his next words. His hips still. Charles is too surprised to do anything but freeze.

“Did you hear that?” Erik asks, voice barely a whisper.

“Hear what?” Charles tries to ask from behind Erik’s hand.

The door opens then, banging shut as someone -- no, two people -- walk into the bathroom. Charles freezes for an entirely different reason.

The footsteps both stop at the urinals.

Erik moves his hips, and Charles is so startled that he yelps against Erik’s hand.

“Quiet,” Erik says, lips right against Charles’ ear. He feels more than hears Erik’s voice.

Erik lets his hand loosen over Charles’ mouth, but doesn’t remove it entirely.

“I can be quiet,” Charles mutters.

Erik’s hand tightens again. “That’s not being quiet,” he mummers.

Charles thinks very pointedly that Erik’s not being quiet either, but before he can try to dislodge Erik’s hand, Erik jerks forward again, shoving his cock deeper into Charles.

Charles groans against Erik’s hand.

“What was that?” one of the owners of the footsteps says.

“I didn’t hear anything,” the other says.

Erik changes his angle a bit and hits Charles’ prostate, drawing another groan out of him.

“I swear I heard something,” footstep number one says.

“Probably the old pipes,” footstep number two says.

Charles tries to keep up with where the two people are, but is distracted by Erik, who has kept fucking him. One of the sinks turns on, and Charles uses the cover of the noise from the water to let out another moan.

“Are you sure that’s the pipes?” footstep number one asks again.

“Why does it matter?” footstep number two asks. “Hey, did you get that paper done for Xavier’s class?”

Charles tilts his head at hearing his own name, letting go of the top of the stall to wave a hand at Erik, trying to get him to stop for a second.

Erik slams into him hard enough to shake the stall wall.

“No, I never do his until the last minute. He’s pretty lax on grading.”

Charles’ next noise is an indignant huff. Erik leans against him, and Charles can tell that he’s laughing silently.

The two students leave, the door banging shut behind them, and Erik finally removes his hand from Charles’ mouth.

“I am  _ not _ lax at grading,” Charles says.

“Of course you’re not,” Erik says, tone placating. Before Charles can call him out on it, he grabs Charles’ hips and slams back into him.

Charles groans, head falling forward and banging against the wall of the stall.

Erik’s rhythm falters a bit as he gets close, and Charles reaches down to stroke his own cock. It’s not long before he’s coming, some of it splattering onto the wall. Erik keeps fucking him through it, until he's coming as well.

When they both come down a bit, Charles yanks his pants back up. When he turns around, Erik’s already zipped up, looking as immaculate as ever. Charles stumbles out of the stall and glances in the mirror. Unlike Erik, he looks thoroughly fucked -- his hair is a mess and his face is flushed.

“Again tomorrow?” Erik asks.

“I thought you were going to that conference,” Charles says, trying to fix his hair.

“Maybe,” Erik says. “Either way, you've got office hours tomorrow morning, don't you?”

“I'm supposed to actually be in my office during office hours,” Charles says. “That's why they're called ‘office hours.’”

“We can always fuck in your office,” Erik points out.

Charles shoots him an unamused look. “Where any student could just walk in?”

“You mean like they did now?”

Charles doesn't have a good response to that.

“I can't tomorrow,” he says.

“Alright,” Erik says, agreeably.

Charles frowns at him. “I mean it,” he says, even though he doesn't. He probably will wind up fucking Erik in his office, because Erik is infuriating and beautiful and Charles should stay away from him, which only serves to make him even more appealing.

Erik just grins.


End file.
